


The Hacker (alternatively titled: the one that got away, that time Aubrey Posen had to arrest her ex girlfriend)

by totalbellatrash



Series: PP Rare Pair Week 2020 [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, FBI AU, kinda angsty?, past Beca/Aubrey, so here have a crime au, technically was supposed to be a horror AU but I suck at writing horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23645308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalbellatrash/pseuds/totalbellatrash
Summary: The woman behind the door nodded again, and slowly creaked the door open. Aubrey blinked, shaking her head when she took in the unsub’s appearance. She was mousy and small, with dark hair pulled into a messy bun, a stark contrast from Aubrey’s neat blonde ponytail. Most importantly, she was Aubrey’s ex girlfriend from college - Beca Mitchell.
Relationships: aubrey posen/beca mitchell
Series: PP Rare Pair Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700728
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	The Hacker (alternatively titled: the one that got away, that time Aubrey Posen had to arrest her ex girlfriend)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This was supposed to be my horror AU but I suck fat nuts at writing horror so I went with a crime AU, inspired by my recent criminal minds binge. 
> 
> Somehow this came out way way way more angsty and not as shippy as I intended? So sorry about that?? 
> 
> Anyways, leave me a review and let me know what you thought!

“FBI, open up!” 

Aubrey rapped on the door again, free hand wrapped around the gun she had pointed at the floor. She waited another second, fist pounding at the door more insistently this time. 

“Posen, do you want us to break the door down?” Emily questioned, gun pointed at the door. She was a newer agent, and it showed in her hesitance. 

“No. Give me a second, let’s get her out here without a problem.” She sighed, brushing her hair out of her forehead before she beat the end of her gun into the door. 

The unsub was an unknown cybercrime hacker, going by the name of DJ Beat online. They had a location, but not a name. They suspected it was a woman, mid to late 20s, but the uncertainty of the suspect’s identity made Aubrey nervous. 

———————————

“I don’t understand, Emily, why would the unsub do this?” Aubrey furrowed her brow, chewing the end of her pen. 

She had been poring over the case files for hours, trying to make sense of it all. There was definitely a connection between it all, but she didn’t see it. 

“They’re targeting major corporations and business moguls, that’s enough of a reason.” Emily chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Doing the work everyone else wishes they had the balls to do.” 

“But there has to be a pattern, a connection somewhere.” Aubrey murmured, turning back to the files spread across the meeting table. 

She let out a long, drawn out breath before standing and pouring another cup of coffee. Her glasses were sliding off her nose, unruly blonde hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. They had spent hours digging into the case without any luck. 

“Posen, talk to me.” 

Stacie strode in with a box of pastries and another carafe of coffee, looking far more put together than anyone else in the room. She deposited the snacks on the table beside the door before bending down to take a look at the case files. 

“How do you always look so put together?” Aubrey mused to herself before walking back to the stack of papers. “This is ah, intense cybercrime. Shit, unsub is a female, mid to late 20s, goes by DJ Beat. She’s been targeting large corporations and business moguls - robbery and stalking.” 

“How much has she taken?” 

“Close to a million.” Emily answered, spreading some papers in front of Stacie. 

“The weird thing is there’s almost always a large donation to a charity following the robberies.” Aubrey frowned again, taking a slow sip of her coffee. 

There was a beat of silence that fell over the room, all three agents lost in thought. Whoever the unsub was, they were smart, and they most likely weren’t doing it for personal financial gain. 

It just didn’t make sense - why would someone put themselves at risk of being in so much trouble and not want to benefit from it?

“I’ve got it.” Stacie exclaimed over a mouthful of donut. “Unsub is trying to be a vigilante. Targeting major corporations that have had allegations against them for unsafe working conditions, low pay, overworking their employees, all to donate the money to charity.” 

“Sounds good. Oh, hello, ladies. How are we all doing this evening? Morning, rather.” Chloe was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest. 

The team murmured their greetings, nudging the box of pastries towards Chloe with warm smiles. It was that point in their shift when late night blurred into early morning, go bags at the ready near the door for their flight in the morning. They were all exhausted, but trying to be as productive as possible before they lost time in the air - every minute spent not working is a minute an unsub was getting away. 

“So tired, Chlo.” Aubrey groaned, pausing to take a sip of her coffee. “Finding a name will be almost impossible, but I’m almost betting we can get a location…with the help of our super amazing tech genius?” 

“Of course. I already ran the IP address of each transaction and I have good news and bad news.” Chloe started, swiping on her tablet. “Good news is the unsub wasn’t smart enough to use several devices and locations, so I’ve pinned her to a location just east of Atlanta, near Barden University. It’s residential, so almost a sure bet as to where the unsub lives.” 

“You sexy redheaded genius, I could kiss you right now…” Aubrey trailed off, looking up at Chloe with a furrowed brow. “But you said there was bad news?” 

There was a moment of silence, Chloe tapping away on her tablet and swiping, deep in concentration. She was a genius with these sorts of things - could find anyone anywhere, given the right amount of time, and she was an asset to their team in every way, had a skill that was unmatched. 

“Yeah, there’s a catch. House is owned by a Robert Marlowe, deceased. So I thought, he’s got to be married, right? Older man in a nice subdivision, maybe his wife is living there… wrong. She moved to California two years ago. And that’s where the trail runs cold…the electricity is still on in his name and the house is maintained, so the unsub is definitely there.” 

Aubrey huffed, shaking her head. There always had to be a catch, no case could ever just be easy. She shifted through the papers on the table, scribbling down a note on her legal pad before turning back to Chloe. 

“Text me the address?” 

“Already done.” The redhead smiled brightly before sauntering to the door. “For the record, guys, I don’t think the unsub is going to put up much of a fight. But anyways, you guys need to get some rest before you head out in the morning. Come say bye before you head to the plane?” 

“Yeah, Chlo. Thank you.” 

—————————————————————

“DJ Beat, open up! We know what you’re doing, and we just want to talk. No one is going to jail, and no one gets hurt.” Aubrey tried, hand still on her gun and eyes trained at the wooden door behind the rod iron framework of the storm door. 

There was a shuffling, someone moving around behind the door, and Aubrey motioned for Emily to lower her weapon. The last thing they wanted to do was scare off the unsub. 

There was the audible click of tumblers turning over in the lock, a creak as the door was inched open just a bit. A blue eye peaked out the crack in the door, darting around and taking in her surroundings timidly. 

Chloe was right, the unsub wouldn’t give them any trouble at all. Aubrey doubted she was armed, and she loosened her grip on the gun and raised her hands in the air. It was all about trust, getting the unsub to realize you wouldn’t hurt them. 

“Are you DJ Beat?” 

The silver Aubrey could see of the head - a blue eye with a familiarity she just couldn’t shake - bobbed up and down, skin ashen from what Aubrey could guess was anxiety. 

“Thank you for answering the door. We just want to talk about some concerning activity, would you be open to talking with us? I’m SSA Posen, this is my partner Agent Junk. We’re just here to talk, no one is going to get hurt.” 

Aubrey motioned for Emily to step forward, into the timid woman’s line of sight. She held her hand out for Emily’s gun, nodding reassuringly when the agent looked at her with concern in her eyes. 

“We’re going to put the guns away.” 

She slid Emily’s gun into the holster on the other agent’s belt, tapping her to make sure she realized the safety was still off. They stepped up to the door, hands where the woman could see them. 

“May we come in?” 

The woman behind the door nodded again, and slowly creaked the door open. Aubrey blinked, shaking her head when she took in the unsub’s appearance. She was mousy and small, with dark hair pulled into a messy bun, a stark contrast from Aubrey’s neat blonde ponytail. Most importantly, she was Aubrey’s ex girlfriend from college - Beca Mitchell. 

The shock and realization on Beca’s face - mixed with a small hint of what may have been guilt or remorse - was enough to tell Aubrey that Beca was obviously just as confused as she was. 

She felt her heart hammer in her chest, blinking rapidly because surely this had to be a joke. If she didn’t know better, she would ask who set up the elaborate prank. Her brow furrowed, urging Emily to lead their way into the house, needing a moment to collect herself. 

—————————————

“You know what, Aubs? If I ever become a hacker - I mean a real hacker, one of the big guys - I want every piece of shit to pay. Every piece of shit who thinks that just because they have a few zeroes behind their name means their shit doesn’t stink and they own the fuckin’ world.” 

They were sitting in Aubrey’s dorm, her roommate gone for the day to some fancy sporting event. Aubrey was working away at a forensics lab report, pens laid out in an orderly fashion. She hummed an affirmative to Beca’s rant, watching her out of the corner of her eye while she wrote. 

Beca was tapping away on her laptop, doing god knows what. Aubrey never understood what she was doing, fingers flying across the keyboard and files popping up faster than she could even comprehend. If there was one thing she could say about her, it was that she was nothing less than exceptional. 

“But what makes someone a piece of shit?” Aubrey mused, chewing on the end of her pen, deep in thought. 

“I don’t know, Aubs. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

————————————————

That day in Aubrey’s dorm room felt so far away, like another lifetime or an alternate universe. She had all but forgotten about that conversation, but it all made sense now. 

Beca had been closed off the entire time they dated until the time they decided to end things. They ended on good terms, remained friends for several months, but there wasn’t much of a friendship behind the relationship, and Beca was so secretive that it all felt falsified. 

It was no wonder the name Robert Marlowe didn’t ring any bells - Beca had never told her about her parents aside from the fact that they were estranged and didn’t believe in her lifestyle. If she would have known her parents’ names, it would have been of no use anyways, locked in that compartment of Aubrey’s brain that she hardly let even herself into, too filled with painful memories of the past. 

Aubrey felt like she was dizzy walking through the house, following the sound of Emily and Beca’s voices to the living room. She forced a tense smile to her partner, flashed her a look that hopefully conveyed that she would fill her in later. 

“So, where were we?” 

“Take a seat, Agent Posen, there’s room beside Agent Junk.” Beca started, pausing before looking Aubrey in the eye. “We were just talking about how much I hate those piece of shit big wigs, working up in their offices and treating their inferiors like shit. Did you know that? How much I detest them?” 

Aubrey felt the competitive part of her personality break through, setting her stance and shaking her head at Beca. 

“You know what, Miss Mitchell, I think I’d prefer to stand. And that’ll be SSA Posen to you.” She folded her arms across her chest in a display of dominance, looking down at the other woman. 

“Are you one of those big wigs, Posen?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

There was a beat of silence, Emily looking at them in confusion. 

“I’m going to bag up the evidence, unless you need me in here?” 

“No, Junk, go ahead.” 

Aubrey waited for Emily to leave the room, watching the agent bounce out of view before turning to Beca. She felt her gaze soften looking at the other woman. It was as though no time had passed, Beca looked the exact same - from the ear spikes to the messy dark hair. 

“You know you’re going away for a long time for this, right?” 

“You can’t pull any strings?” Beca tried hopefully, pouting at Aubrey. 

“No, Beca, I can’t. You screwed up, big time. This wasn’t how I wanted to see you again, you know? I wanted you to get your shit together.” 

“But Bree, I still love you…” Beca started, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“I’ll try to get you a decent prison, somewhere with good food where they let you watch the news, but no promises.” Aubrey’s tone was cold, emotionless. 

She turned on her heel and walked out of the house, forcing herself to stay stoic and cold until she reached the black suburban she and Emily had drove over in. 

Seeing Beca had shook Aubrey yo more than she cared to admit - stirred up feelings of anger and sadness all over again. She couldn’t deal with her, didn't want to see her every day and look at the evidence knowing Beca still loved her and she could do nothing about it, not when she was an agent and Beca was now a criminal. She opened her phone and dialed her supervisor, relieved when Cynthia Rose answered on the second ring. 

“Hey CR, it’s Posen. I need off this case…conflict of interest. Yeah, I’ll be back at the office on the next flight I can get.” 

Hanging up the phone, she hailed a taxi in the narrow downtown complex, and with tears in her eyes that would be left unshed, SSA Posen left Beca Mitchell behind for the last time.


End file.
